And That Was Enough
by foolcklw
Summary: Gil receives that strange video from Sara and goes to Lady Heather's house...but when he comes back he finds someone waiting for him. Set after 9x05.
1. And That Was Enough

_So … I've posted a fan fiction here, a few days ago, a grillows fan fiction. And I got some beautiful reviews to which I didn't know how to answer. But suddenly I had an idea; how about writing another grillows story? This is set after episode 9x05. I couldn't understand why Gil hadn't talked to Catherine, since she's his friend, more than anyone I think. So I tried to find a reason … here it is, written in "a couple of" words._

_Hope you like it._

_Ps: I can't stand Lady Heather that much._

**AND THAT WAS ENOUGH**

*

It was dark.

Shadows had fallen over the city and over the floor of his mind. With a sigh he entered the flat and closed the door behind him, while turning on the light. Then he lifted up his face to search for his dog, and he saw her.

"Hi, Gil"

She was wearing a sweater and a pair of jeans. All the feelings she had were buried under a soft, tired anger, as he could see from her lips, from the cheeks of her, from her fair eyes. Next to her was sitting his dog. He looked angry too, he looked like 'uh, have you forgotten about me?'.

"Hi" he said simply, letting his arms reach his waist.

He didn't even have the istint to ask himself why she was there. Because, somehow, he knew.

"We solved the case"

"I know. Nick told me."

"You could have phoned me."

"You're right. I just -"

"Please, don't."

He suddenly stopped and looked to her. She turned around and took a few steps in the room.

"How's she?"

He frowned.

"I mean Heather. How's she? Beautiful as always, I hope."

The sarcasm of her voice, her graceful, shaking voice, stole him some heart beats. Gil looked at the windows, into the night, her words still floating among his thoughts, all suddenly trapped in the middle of his head. They stood like tall trees in a desert park. He knew he didn't need to answer, so he just waited Catherine to go on. As she started again, he noticed all her sarcasm had vanished.

"I'm trying to find a reason why you don't talk to me, Gil. I'm trying to understand you, but believe me when I say it's hard to get into someone's mind if he doesn't open it to you. I don't … I really can't understand why you haven't come to my house, to my office, to any place I could be." she sighed "I was worried. I was terribly worried and I was looking to you, at work. Always looking to you."

He was still stuck a few metres beyond the door, staring at her body. He could understand how she felt, but couldn't move from there. Maybe the distance made her sadness, or his feeling of guilt, decrease. But then she turned around to face him, and he became scared of what she would say.

"What are friends for, Gil?" she asked "I wanna talk with you, and I want you to ask for my help if you need it. I'm here, near you, I've always been and always will be. But … but maybe she's better in healing you. Maybe she knows the right words, maybe she knows how to make you feel better. Does she make you laugh? Do you and her have fun together? Do you cry together? What the hell were you doing there, Gilbert Grissom, while I was here worrying for you and thinking about you, not able to concentrate a little moment on my fucking life?"

To finish the last sentence she had almost shouted, and he couldn't say a word, he was just keeping his eyes on her. And he was even more scared, because now it was is turn.

"I …" a long hesitation "to be honest, I don't know why I went there."

And then a painful, horrible silence.

"Oh Gil for God's sake! You and my husband and my daughter have always took from me all the patience I could have." she closed his eyes, and finished, in a wishper: "You're lucky I don't hate you, yet".

Then she bent over the sofa to get her bag and started searching for the car's key, while walking toward the door. He'd given again his eyes to the window, but as soon as she was close enough he clasped her hand.

"Sara sent me a video" he murmured, after some istants "We've broken up."

She observed his face and bit her lower lip. He was so, deeply sad. And hurt. Benting the fingers of the hand she went closer to him and finally placed it over his cheek, sure that the subtle pressure she was giving him was the reason why a painful breath escaped his mouth. She moved the hand to his shoulder, and with the other she turned off the lights. Then she hugged him.

Not too strong was the embrace, not too light. She wasn't forcing him to stay; and every muscle, every fiber of his body gradually started to talk to her. The long beard a few inches above her head said he was tired and unable to sleep. The shivers running up his arms meant he was scared of being alone, he was scared of the lack Sara had just left in his life. But his breath calming down said _I'm okay with you_, and Catherine started relaxing too, her body right against his, there, in the pale darkness of that night. The heart beating into his chest and knocking on the redhead's ear said _I haven't slept with her_.

A few minutes later his hand lifted up, and reached her back. She stopped taking breaths in and waited, counting again and again the five fingers he'd laid upon her body.

Then, from his lips, came the lowest whisper of all his figure.

"Thank you"

And that was enough.

*

_I'd like to continue this story, but I don't know if my ispiration will let me. We'll see! Criticisms are welcome and useful, since I'm Italian and English isn't my first language; I write in English also to enrich it and make it better, so alywas tell me if I got wrong. Thank you for reading …_


	2. Tonight You Decide

_I'm glad you liked the first chapter. As I told you, I tried to continue the story; but what follows happens in another night. That night finishes with the hug, then everyone goes to bed. This night is set after their talk in 9x08._

_There will be a third chapter, shorter than this, I will post it as soon as possible. Hope you like it._

_Just __**love**__ them._

**- 2 -**

**TONIGHT YOU DECIDE**

A couple of days had passed from the night they'd met.

She'd moved from his body and had sweetly kissed his cheek. They'd not talked; at least, not using a verbal language. After the hug and the kiss, she'd been swept away by the wind of Las Vegas. The one that, at night, wipes away those who're not home and have a daughter and have a work and have an alarm, at morning.

But that hug had moved something, into them. It had lightly moved something heavy.

They'd spent the night together. First they'd been chatting; then she proposed to play and so they stopped to win (or loose) some money, and to have fun, too. They had these things both. More fun than money, though. And they were not drunken, when Grissom offered to drive her home. He got right in front of her house and stopped the car. She had her bag in the hands and was ready to get out, when a hesitation caught her fingers. They came back to her lap, as she looked up to him.

"Want to come in for a tea?" she asked, a bit scared of the answer (of any answer he could give her).

He gave a look to the watch and lightly shook his head.

"It's late, Cath."

"I know, but …" her hand had automatically moved to his, on the wheel.

The sentence died just above her tongue, and she was ready to give up and come home alone, as always, come home, undress and reach the enormous bed she had, without the pretense to fill it completely. Since it was made for two, but two weren't there.

But he broke her routine.

"However, if it's only for a tea I can't say no."

She smiled, thankful. She really wanted to talk. He pulled the car key out of the ignition and watched her getting out of the SUV; a melancholic smile was laying upon his lips. Then he followed her to the door and entered the house.

"What about Lindsay? Outside I saw all the lights were off but I can't believe she's already sleeping"

"Actually she isn't" she said, while locking the door and removing the heels and the jacket "This morning she got an A and so she asked me to have some fun with her friends."

"And you let her. Which subject?"

They moved to the kitchen, she smiled.

"Science. I told her she needs to thank you, my dear mad scientist."

She put the pot she'd filled with water on the fire and rested against the counter. A pale, tired ghost haunted her marvelous face; and her eyes were connected to his as the five fingers are linked to the hand. He was observing her, intensively, memorizing every stepped she took, everything she did, and there were moments (maybe it was the lights' fault, or maybe his eyes') in which she looked more beautiful than ever. The smile her joke had caused had vanished from his lips.

"I don't want you to be sad, Gil." she murmured, while taking a step toward him.

"I'm not sad" he replied, calmly "I'm just thinking."

"Thinking of what?"

She was ready to put a hand on his face (and it wasn't the first time in the whole night she wanted to place it there) when the pot started calling for her. He sat at the kitchen table and waited, back to his silence. There she was a couple of minutes later.

"That's enough"

With his hand he stopped hers. She nodded and put the pot aside, on the table. She sat down.

"You want some sugar?"

"No, thank you."

Catherine let some sugar fall into her cup and then took a short sip from it, while spying his reaction to the liquid he was staring at. His face was so funny. He looked like a child.

"Tea, meet Gil. And Gil, this is tea. Now that you know each other, you can get closer." she teased him, taking another sip.

"To be honest, I don't like tea that much. I prefer coffee."

"I know. But I don't think coffee is a good friend for you right now, Gil."

"Actually, tea contains-"

"Gil" she interrupted the chemistry lesson by lifting up a hand "you're not in service. Just stop analyzing it and drink it."

She did it and pointed at her cup.

"See? It's not poisoned"

Grissom smiled softly, and finally obeyed. It was interesting to see how he reacted to things, in life. He was always scared, and tough and astonished by things that were too small for any other human.

"Does it taste good?" she asked him, when she saw his lips and the cup parting.

"Maybe I should have let you put some more sugar into it."

They both burst into laugh, and while calming down she realized they were back to the past. Finally, after weeks minutes years spent apart and far from each other, there they were, close, friends, cool, laughing chatting and making noise with the help of some tea.

But there was his sadness. And there was her awkwardness. Two things they weren't allowed to hide.

"When are you leaving?" she asked, in a whisper.

His eyes widened.

"How do you know?" was the answer.

Her eyes lowered.

How did she know? She'd been knowing for a lot of time. Since Sara left, and before. Since he started to be tired of Las Vegas, since he was tired of crime. Catherine had perfectly known it, and just hoped it happened the latest possible.

She lifted her eyes and understood that it was time to touch him. So she reached out, but it was the slowest, the calmest move ever; her hand matched his cheek, and his eyes hadn't left hers. He sighed.

"I'd like to see your tears, Gil. I'd like to see your sadness rolling down your face, and washing your skin. I'm tired to perceive it, like it was a ghost. I want you to be happy"

Her thumb met his lips. Catherine rubbed them, with an extreme caution and care. But then the finger stopped, and with it her whole body.

"I'm not going to do anything"

She got up and went closer to him, then cupped his face. When she was sure he was looking into her eyes, holding them tight, she placed her lips onto his.

It wasn't passionate

it wasn't strong

it wasn't anything but _their_.

"Tonight you decide."

Her touch left him.


	3. Nothing But Sorry

**- 3 -**

**NOTHING BUT SORRY**

Gil hadn't spoke.

Catherine had left him in the kitchen.

They met in the dining room.

She was standing right opposite the window, and was looking outside.

He stopped a few meters behind her.

And took a deep breath.

_What if he comes closer? _

_Will they touch, talk, kiss?_

He took a step forward and [little hesitation] placed his hands on her shoulders.

She closed her eyes [abandon yourself] and gave her back to his chest.

Then his head met hers, but it was a moment, just a very small moment, then she moved and he touched and then he found his fingers on her neck.

They stopped.

With the free hand he removed the ginger hair from her ear.

"Don't cry, Willows" he ordered in a whisper.

Meanwhile his hands were sliding downward, on her profile, from the shoulders to the back to the waist and, finally, on her hips. Her body was tightly pressed against his, and every inch of it was lightly shaking. Keeping one hand stuck on her side, he conducted the other onto her stomach. At that warm contact, her eyes opened and fell over it.

"What are …"

"Sssht"

His fingers were going up and down, moved by her stomach. She was breathing heavily, faster and faster.

"That's the only reason why I've chosen Lady Heather"

She stopped breathing and all the pain came to her eyes. Whose was the fault, if she was so excited? Whose? His hands were slow, calm, warm. _Perfect_. Was it a _fault _to be excited?

But he wasn't angry. He was nothing but sorry. So he replaced his mouth near her ear.

"I can't … I can't make love to you, Cath. I can't cheat on her, in the same way you couldn't cheat on Eddie"

Again, his whispers, and, again, a crowd of shivers scraping her back. She was desperately trying to keep the tears in; she nodded, and rotated until she found herself face to face with him. Gil searched for her eyes and obtained them. She bit her lower lip, he took her head in his hands, she waited, he picked up her lips. But this time the pure contact wasn't enough. They both needed to deepen the kiss and found themselves wrapped around each other, moving head lips tongue in a million of different rhythms. He held her the tightest he could, until they let go. Her head slowly slid down, he sweetly kissed her forehead; her nose got stuck right in the middle of his chest.

"When will you leave?"

"As soon as possible."

Catherine looked up to him.

There they were: so close, closer than ever. And tired, and sweated, and worried.

"I don't want any other goodbye" Gil murmured, caressing her face.

While nodding, she removed his hand from her cheek and lightly kissed the palm. Then he detached.

And she watched him go.

_And … cut! Here it ends, or maybe not. I'd like to write a sequel … but the idea I've got in my mind is quite complicated, and I don't really have a lot of time (study calls for me) so I can't promise anything! _

_Hoping to write you soon,_

_fool_


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